


Your Memory Cannot Keep Me Warm But it Never Leaves Me Cold

by thornfield_girl



Series: I Remember You [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Masturbation, Memories, Pre-Canon, slight Raylan/Winona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan is in Miami, alone with his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Memory Cannot Keep Me Warm But it Never Leaves Me Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This fic can work with my Somehow, Someday series or as a standalone.
> 
> The title is from the Steve Earle song, "You're Still Standing There."

Raylan felt his usual guilty relief when Winona called to tell him she would be gone all evening for a girls' night out with her friends from work. Not that he was unhappy with her around - most of the time, it was just fine. From time to time, though, Raylan needed a few hours to himself to sift through some very old scraps of memory. Occasionally, he would think about this practice in the cold light of day and come to the conclusion that it was not the healthiest thing he could be doing. He would - for awhile - redouble his efforts to be fully present in his life and his marriage. Those were usually good times, and he thought that if he could stick to this practice all the time, he could be fairly happy. It never lasted, as much as he wanted it too. Something always triggered him - a song, sometimes, one that they might have heard down at the Puddle when they were drinking, or a bit of bluegrass that reminded Raylan not only of _him_ but of home. He thought it was strange how melancholy he could get, thinking about Kentucky, considering how badly he'd wanted to leave. Occasionally, Raylan would see someone who looked like him in some way - maybe the same unusual eye color, or lanky build, or sharp-toothed grin. Most often, though, it was a smell. Living in Miami, it wasn't like a whole lot of places smelled like Harlan. Here, it was salt air and seafood, Cuban spices, tropical flowers, but once in awhile Raylan would unexpectedly smell someone's soap, or fried chicken, or (on one rather excruciating occasion) a particular mixture of lake water, mildewed leaves and motor oil that would take him right back.

He picked up a new bottle of bourbon on the way home, knowing that he only had an inch or so left and that he would most certainly need more than that tonight. At home, he rummaged in the fridge and found some leftover pasta from the night before. He ate quickly with a feeling of anticipation growing in his stomach. His mind tried to tamp that down for him, tried to tell him that he was pathetic, that this excitement was for nothing, would gain him nothing. He ignored it. He needed this. He finished his food and rinsed his dish in the sink. Then he took his bottle and a glass out to the patio at the back of their house. The south Florida humidity hit him like a wall as he walked outside. Harlan could get pretty hot, pretty humid in the summertime, but this was almost unreasonable. He took off his shirt and boots, and sat there in just his jeans with his feet propped up on the little outdoor table. He poured himself a generous glass of bourbon and took a sip, sighing in relief that he had time for this now. It had been a couple of months since Winona had gone out somewhere without dragging him along.

Raylan closed his eyes and decided on one. It was the first day they'd worked together, and the first day that Raylan had realized that he wanted Boyd. They'd always known each other, but neither had really paid much mind. Bo and Arlo had a rather hostile relationship, for people who were often forced to work in conjunction with each other, so even if it had occurred to the boys to befriend each other, it would have been discouraged or forbidden by both of their fathers. Boyd had been working in the mine for a couple months when Raylan started. Raylan was clocking in for his first day, when he heard a voice behind him.

 _"Why, Raylan Givens! What brings you down here? Thought you'd a been long gone by now, the way you always talked."_

 _"Not just yet."_

 _"Well, consider me a source of wisdom and information about this mine, if you like. I'm practically an expert by now."_

 _"I don't want to know anymore than I need to know about this place, Boyd."_

 _After work, when Raylan was getting cleaned up and changed, Boyd sat down on the nearest bench and grinned up at him, his slender legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Raylan felt something click in his mind, something that said_ Oh, ok. Now I know what's different, now I know why I can't stay here. _It wasn't the only reason by far, but he knew it was as good a one as any. He thought maybe it should scare him, but it didn't feel frightening, really. More inconvenient than anything._

 _"I don't know about you, but I get mighty dry down in that hole. I usually head on over to the Puddle for refreshments after work. Care to come with me and celebrate your first day on the job?"_

 _"I ain't celebrating that, but I will definitely come and have a drink with you. Let's go."_

Raylan wasn't sure why he loved this memory so much - nothing had happened yet, he had no inkling that Boyd might return the glimmer of interest that had already sparked in Raylan. Maybe because it was the beginning, the very beginning, and everything about it was pure. It was just desire, uncomplicated by anything like grief, or love.

 _They took Boyd's truck to the Puddle, Boyd promising to drop Raylan off at his car when they were done. They talked the whole way there, and in the space of this one conversation, Raylan realized that he had been underestimating Boyd their entire lives. Maybe that was intentional on Boyd's part, he didn't know, but he had apparently decided that Raylan rated a little more honesty than the general public. Boyd was smart, and loved books. He had read far more than Raylan, who liked to read, but never felt much like challenging himself. He liked a little sci-fi, and crime novels, but Boyd read real literature - on his own time. Raylan wondered how Bo felt about that, and he decided to ask._

 _"Well Raylan, let's just say that my daddy does not share this particular interest of mine. I do my best to keep it quiet, and keep my copy of The Golden Bowl under my Playboys."_

 _"Which you only read for the articles, of course."_

 _"Well now, between the joys of literature and the pleasures of a woman's body, there is hardly a contest."_

This line never failed to make Raylan smile, whenever he hauled this particular evening out of the dark recesses of his brain, to be pored over once again. Each time, he examined the memory for evidence that Boyd had been uncomfortable or worried by his comment, but always had to conclude that either he hadn't, or that he'd been so practiced at this sort of misdirection that it had been second nature to him.

 _They had a few drinks each at the bar, and Boyd insisted on picking up the check. Since Raylan hadn't received a paycheck yet, he didn't argue too hard. On the ride home, pleasantly buzzed, Raylan asked Boyd about the future._

 _"What are you planning to do, Boyd? You want to stay in the mines?"_

 _"I won't be in the mines forever, no."_

 _"Bo's business, I guess? That's the plan?"_

 _"Raylan... you and I have known each other for a long time, but I never considered you a friend until tonight. I do now, though, and I hope you consider me the same._

 _"I do."_

 _"OK, then. As a friend, I will ask you to kindly keep your judgments and opinions on that particular subject to yourself. It's not helpful."_

 _"Sure. Sorry. Don't mind me. I just think... well. I know it ain't my business, but you're too smart for it. It's a waste. But I'll shut up, you won't hear it from me again, I promise."_

He had, though. Raylan had kept the promise for awhile, but as he and Boyd got closer he couldn't help bringing it up again from time to time. The more Boyd came to mean to him, the more upsetting it was to think of him taking Bo Crowder's malignant place in Harlan. But that was later. That first night, Raylan had been content to let it lie.

 _Boyd pulled up next to Raylan's car in the lot of the mining company. Raylan was slightly disappointed that the evening was over, and wished it had been a longer ride home. He wanted to hear Boyd talk some more about the books he'd read, even though he didn't have much to add to that conversation. He liked the way Boyd looked and sounded when he was talking about them - he seemed sincerely happy to have someone to talk to about them, and Raylan was glad that he felt comfortable doing it. He wondered why, though. They barely knew each other, really, so why had Boyd trusted him with it so quickly? Whatever the reason, Raylan understood the feeling. He had felt instantly at ease around Boyd, as well._

 _They said goodbye, and Raylan got home without remembering any part of the drive. He hadn't had that much to drink, but his mind was occupied with a lot of new information. He had barely ever given Boyd Crowder a second thought, though he'd known him pretty much his whole life. In the last 12 hours, he'd discovered that he not only liked him very much, and wanted him as a friend, but that he wanted more than that as well, something he had never consciously felt about a man before. There had been small attractions, barely acknowledged by Raylan as such, in the past, but nothing like this. This was a powerful feeling. He'd never fantasized about_ being _with a man before - wasn't even sure what that would look like - but as soon as he got home, he headed into the shower and started thinking about it. He imagined Boyd kissing him - pushing him up against a wall maybe, or on the ground... sliding his tongue into Raylan's mouth. He thought Boyd was probably a good kisser. He had a reputation with girls, always slept with the prettiest ones, but rarely had a girlfriend. He imagined unzipping Boyd's jeans and... with that image, Raylan sank to his knees in the shower and jerked off quickly. He had been half hard for most of the night, and now that he was finally able to let these half-formed thoughts flood his brain, he couldn't hold off. As he came, he whispered Boyd's name, very quietly, then let the water run over his back for a minute._

Raylan opened his eyes and poured another drink for himself. His dick was hard just from the memory of how turned on he'd been that night, and he adjusted himself. He would take care of it later, but he wanted to spend some more time back in Kentucky with Boyd, first. There was the time when he and Boyd had gone up to Lexington to drink on a Saturday night.

 _They didn't have money for a hotel room, so they both brought a sleeping bag and planned to camp out somewhere in the bed of the truck. They had raised a little hell, flirted with some college girls, and drank much more than they normally would on a night out. They walked back to the truck, and though neither of them should have been driving, they needed to find a place to park where they could sleep undiscovered. It was Boyd's truck, so he was the most logical choice. Raylan was too drunk to be afraid to ride with him, and as soon as Boyd started heading out of downtown, Raylan fell asleep on the passenger side. He awoke to Boyd shaking his shoulder and opened his eyes to see bushes and trees. Boyd had pulled off the road somewhere outside of town, and Raylan couldn't be bothered to wonder if it was a safe place to park. They got out of the cab and walked around to the back, both staggering a bit._

 _"Goddamn, we're lucky you didn't kill us, driving as drunk as you are."_

 _"I can't see as you would have been any better. You can barely stand up, Raylan Givens."_

 _"You're one to talk."_

 _They climbed up into the bed of the truck and got into their bags. Raylan was drunk enough that he almost thought he could do something to let Boyd in on what he'd been feeling. He wanted to just reach over and touch him, maybe just his hand. Or maybe even give him a kiss. Raylan wanted that so badly. But he was not quite drunk enough that he could discount any of the possible consequences of doing those things. He didn't think Boyd would hurt him, physically - though why he believed that, Raylan couldn't say - but he might stop speaking to him. He might stop feeling comfortable around him. That wouldn't be ok at all, because at this point, Boyd was the only decent thing he had going on in Harlan. Still, he wanted to say something, while they were both drunk enough to maybe forget it - or pretend to forget it - the next day._

 _"Hey Boyd."_

 _"Yes, Raylan."_

 _"You're my best friend."_

 _"I'm your only friend."_

 _"Well, that may be true, but even if you weren't you'd still be the best one."_

 _Boyd was quiet. Raylan thought maybe he'd made his friend uncomfortable, and was about to make a joke about it when Boyd spoke._

 _"I didn't think there was anyone in Harlan I'd ever be able to count as a true friend until I came to know you, Raylan. So I appreciate you saying that."_

 _They lay there for awhile, both shivering. It was a chilly October night, and the booze was wearing off and making them feel even colder than they should have been. Raylan wanted to ask Boyd to come closer, to share a little body heat, but after that conversation he thought it was maybe a little too much. Finally, Boyd surprised him._

 _"Are you cold? I'm fucking freezing."_

 _"Yes, it's way colder than it should be in October. I can't get warm."_

 _"Well... I don't want to freak you out or nothin', but maybe we should, you know..."_

 _"Yeah, we probably should." Trying to conceal his happiness at this turn of events, Raylan slid himself and his sleeping bag over until he was up against Boyd's sleeping bagged form._

 _"That won't work, we have to zip them together if we want it to make any difference." Boyd's voice was calm, almost free of inflection. Raylan tried to match his tone._

 _"OK. Do you mind? I don't think I can sleep if I'm this cold."_

 _"No, it's fine."_

 _They unzipped their bags, and after a minute of fumbling, they got them zipped together. They lay back, each staying on their own side of the large bag, but even with that it was a lot warmer almost immediately._

 _"Good night, Boyd."_

 _"Night, Raylan."_

 _Raylan was much warmer, but now he was also hard. He couldn't very well do anything about it, so he lay there and tried not to think about how close he was to Boyd, or how if he wanted to, he could just reach out and... take a chance, gamble on their friendship. No. He wouldn't do that, not unless he was almost sure that Boyd would accept it, and he just couldn't tell. Boyd was a very hard read, and it wasn't like Raylan had experience with these things. He waited, and eventually his body calmed down and let him sleep._

 _When Raylan woke up in the morning, their little cocoon was toasty. Boyd was facing away from Raylan, but his body had migrated towards the middle and his back was resting against Raylan's side. Boyd's warm, solid weight felt so good, and Raylan hoped he wouldn't wake up for awhile. He looked over at the back of his friend's head, hair going in all directions, and imagined they were waking up like this after doing... things... the night before. They'd done nothing, of course, and probably never would. This had been wonderful though, in it's own way. It was much closer than he'd ever thought he could get to Boyd, and this strange friendship was unlike anything he'd ever experienced._

 _Just then, Boyd shifted and seemed to realize that he was pressed up against Raylan. He moved away and turned himself towards Raylan. He looked sleepy and a little hung over, and had an absolutely unreadable expression in his eyes. Raylan suddenly thought_ He's beautiful _and then mentally corrected himself. That wasn't the right word, not for him. He couldn't come up with a word that fit just right, and it occurred to him that Boyd could probably tell him one. Raylan thought maybe he should start reading better books. Whatever it was, he realized that Boyd's face had become his very favorite thing to look at in the last few months._

 _"Sorry about that. I move around a lot in my sleep."_   


_"No problem. At least I was warm."_

 _They got up and rolled up their bags, then started back on the road on the way to Harlan._

Now Raylan was very aroused, and opened his jeans to make room for his erection. He rubbed himself a few times, but he wasn't ready to stop just yet. One more, he thought. Their first time.

"Raylan! Hey, baby, I decided to come home early."

 _Shit!_ Raylan zipped up his jeans. It wasn't right, he knew, but he was angry that Winona had come back. Couldn't she just go out with her friends and have a good time? Get drunk, stumble home late and fall asleep? He took a few deep breaths, got up and strolled into the living room holding his drink.

"Hey, sweetie. Weren't you having fun?"

"Oh, it was ok. I really just wanted to get back here to you though, you know? I missed you, baby."

She smelled of some kind of sweet cocktail, and she appeared to be slightly tipsy. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.

"Well, it's good to have you home." Raylan smiled at her, despite feeling almost ready to cry from frustration.

"Let's go to bed, ok? It's all I could think about, Raylan."

"Yeah, me too."

He took her to bed and did right by her, like he always did. He made her feel good, and in the end he felt pretty good too, and if he closed his eyes for awhile and pictured someone else underneath him, he didn't let on.

What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.


End file.
